


No Hollywood Ending

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Baseball, Drabble, Gen, M/M, this is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-28
Updated: 2003-10-28
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6265915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He ended up coming back anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Hollywood Ending

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Andy leans forward, arms folded on the cool metal railing, and rests his chin on his forearm. Roger is in close vicinity of course - since when have Roger and Andy not been within an arm's length of one another - as a press of bodies in the Yankee dugout leans out over the railing. Roger has a hand on Andy's hip, and his groin is flush against Andy's backside and maybe if they weren't such good friends, the close proximity of their bodies might make you wonder. But it doesn't, because with Andy and Roger, it's natural.

And then Josh Beckett tags out Jorge running to first, and the dream - the dream that had been within their grasp - was snatched away. By a twentysomething kid that didn't even know where he was, didn't know the history. Or maybe he did, and he was just playing dumb. 

Andy feels that little swell of grief bubbling up in his throat like bile - and he can taste it on his tongue, bitter and acrid. He'd never before known the taste of grief until 2001, when the Yankees were dethroned by the Diamondbacks. It made him sick to his stomach - and obviously, still does.

Roger doesn't say anything; he just holds Andy in his arms as the youthful, fresh-faced Marlins with their dusty teal-green-and-black uniforms and fresh-scrubbed faces pour out of the visitors' dugout onto the field. 

Something about watching the opponents celebrate on your field is unsettling. 

"I'm sorry, Roger," Andy says, finally, the first thing he's said since he left the game for Mariano.

"It's not your fault. You pitched a helluva game," Roger drawls, his words leaning into one another lazily.

"Shoulda been you, Rog... Shoulda gotten you the win," Andy mutters, hanging his head, feeling Roger's breath on the back of his neck.

"S'ok," Roger says, softly. "I had a good run."

"You should have gotten that final ring," Andy says, resting his forehead on the metal rail, arms hanging slack at his sides.

Roger snuffs, lightly. "Wasn't meant to be, Pet." He rubs the warm, dry palm of his calloused right hand on the nape of Andy's neck, giving it a squeeze.

Andy nods, looping one arm around Roger's waist. Some of the guys begin heading for the clubhouse, and he's never seen them look so demoralized. Hanging heads, slouched shoulders, fingers pinching the bridges of their noses to keep from crying. 

This one will be the hardest to swallow, Andy thinks, out of all the disappointments of his career. Not because he blew it, but because he couldn't get Roger a Game 7, and another shot at the ring. Isn't that the way these things work out in movies? The gallant hero wins the game and forces a game 7 so that the veteran can go out on his white horse, into the sunset?

Andy sighs. Roger's hands are on his shoulders, and the older Texan is kind of pushing the younger one toward the lockerroom. Andy feels boneless, and if Roger isn't there to support him, he might collapse on himself and disappear. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing afterall.

Shouldn't be this way thought. _Should_ be the other way around, with Andy holding up Roger - maybe as the Yankees collect their 27th World Championship, and Roger Clemens rides out on his white stallion into the sunset.

But movies are nothing but fantasy. Everyone wants that Hollywood ending. Andy supposes that this ending will suffice, because there will be next season - another movie - and another World Series.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
